J.F. Juzwik's Blog

A place where writers who love crime fiction and horror can discuss different facets of writing, and the various components that make up a story. Readers are more than welcome too. Let's discuss what you like to see in these tales of mystery, suspense and terror. Included also will be news about upcoming contests, links to great crime, noir, and horror tales, and a review or two.

Thursday, January 11, 2018

Maggie, a single mother with a young child, awakes one night
to find an armed woman in her home. Maggie doesn’t know her, but she does know
who sent her, and why. The young woman, Holly, has been instructed to kill
Maggie in order to ensure the safe return of her baby. Maggie understands this
woman’s deadly mission since she herself had been sent on an identical one.
Someone who calls himself the Babysitter kidnaps the children of single mothers
and instructs them to commit murder in order to get their children back
unharmed. He even provides them with the names and locations of their intended
targets.

Maggie’s daughter, Penny, was returned safe and sound, and
she was not going to allow anyone to endanger her again. Holly’s daughter,
Abigail, was now in the hands of this demented puppeteer, and she believed
following his orders was the only way to get her child back. Two mothers
confront each other in the middle of the night, each intent on protecting their
children whatever the cost. Choices have to be made, and quickly too, because
the Babysitter’s clock is ticking, and when the sun rises, time’s up. Will
these two women play out his sick game, or is there any room for trust between
them so together, they can confront this madman, and still save their children?

The author does not take you gently by the hand and lead you
into a plot land of sunshine and roses, where together you, along with the
characters, can slowly gather strength to face an upcoming crisis. No. Not this
time. In this story, you are immediately set down right in the middle of a
nightmare that you will share with two mothers fighting for their own lives and
ultimately, the lives of their children. It is a unique format for a novel, and
that is what makes this one a true thriller. Life doesn’t slowly build up with
a lot of backstory – life simply happens without warning, and so do the events
in Keep Her Safe.

The mothers’ journey in Keep Her Safe is one of twists and
turns, with danger around each and every corner. You will understand their
anger, you will sense their determination, and you will feel their fear. While
it is true that you won’t be able to put this one down, you won’t want to
either. Just like Maggie and Holly, you will need to know where the road leads,
and in the end, who will win this deadly game.

Thursday, August 31, 2017

It’s a day, just like any other day. Lana is washing dishes, and her four-year old
son Cooper is out playing in the yard. She glances briefly out the window, and
sees that a man wearing a mask has jumped over the fence into their yard. To
her horror, he begins placing a sack over Cooper. She fights with him, and saves
her son from his would-be abductor. Before he flees the scene, the man whispers
‘tomorrow’. While reporting the incident to the police, the child reveals that
the man has been in close contact with him on previous occasions, whispering to
him through the fence. Now this monster has a name: Mr. Whisper.

Lana, her husband Todd, and Cooper relocate, but Lana cannot
move on. She becomes obsessed with finding Mr. Whisper, and follows a website
that tracks child killers and pedophiles. The police continue to investigate
the case without success. When they win a family vacation at an adventure park,
it seems an opportunity to put the ordeal behind them, even for a short time.
At the park however, Todd is assaulted, and Cooper is abducted. Now, the
nightmare truly unfolds.

Someone begins luring Lana to crime sites, Todd disappears
from the hospital he was admitted to following the assault, and Cooper is still
missing. What does all this mean? Where is Todd, and what dark secret is he
hiding from his wife? Did the stranger keep his promise of ‘tomorrow’, or is
someone using the child’s abduction to get to Lana?

Hide and Seek is packed full of dark and disturbing
surprises around every turn. A mother on a quest to find her son, a father
whose night terrors drive him to take desperate measures, and a stranger
pulling the strings like a diabolical puppeteer, drawing them in for his own
demented purpose. The characters are well developed and genuine, the settings
are menacing, and the fear is palpable. The plot moves at lightning speed as a
mother races to save her son, all the while somehow knowing she’s the missing
token in this cruel and depraved game.

Richard Parker has done it again with another top notch,
five-star thriller. This story will grab hold of you right from the start.
Clear your calendar before you open it to Page 1 because there’s no way you’ll
be able to put it down until the end.

Sunday, August 27, 2017

Infinite Darkness (The Edge: Volume 2), is a collection of
horror stories you don’t want to miss out on. This anthology has no central
theme, no min/max word count for the stories, and the stories are arranged in
no discernible order. These are the reasons why it’s such an enjoyable read.
None of the writers were trapped inside rule after rule, and were free to share
their darkest, and most disturbing, tales of fear, superstition, and malice. There’s
something in here for all dedicated fans of horror. It contains 17 stories, the
works of 10 incredibly talented writers. These stories will shock, surprise,
disturb, and scare you. If you are looking for a great read, I recommend this one
highly.

Friday, May 26, 2017

'Sticks and stones can break your bones, but words can never hurt you.' Really? Think again.

Let’s have some fun. Sign in to your Twitter account and
access the hashtag BeMyKiller, a stream to entice a serial killer to select you
as their next victim. There you will enter your tweet - your dare. Use your
imagination – be creative – make him want you. Only. You. Wanna play?

A disturbing prank? An irresponsible practical joke?
Perhaps, but as occurs after all actions, there occurs a reaction. In this
case, the reactions that resulted were deadly consequences. People were being
targeted, and murdered, in ways that matched quite literally the taunts they
aimed at the killer. One victim baited the predator with the words ‘want a
piece of me?’. You can probably make an accurate guess at how this young man’s
life ended.

Hazel Salter, a film producer, had a theory about the
killings, and also had a personal stake in this tragedy. One of the victims was
a childhood friend of hers, and she was determined to try to find a way to
convince the authorities to focus their investigation in a different direction.
She gathers her crew together, and establishes a base of operations at the site
of her friend’s death, with the goal of making a documentary about the murders.
Plans include interviewing locals, family members and friends of victims, and
members of law enforcement as possible.

Even someone with the best of intentions could not
anticipate how their plans could go horribly wrong. As the project proceeds,
people associated with it are systematically murdered. Who is responsible? How
can those left protect themselves? Are the killings and disappearances related
to the original Twitter prank, or has another serial killer chosen to use the
area as his hunting ground?

Richard Parker has assembled a cast of characters whose
lives criss-cross again and again, and weave an impenetrable web of mystery.
From the first page, Be My Killer will lure you into that web, and hold you
tightly until the last. Be My Killer is definitely not for the faint of heart,
but if you’re looking for an impressively dark puzzle that gathers itself
together, one terrifying piece after another, then Be My Killer is for you.

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Severed my relationship with DiskUs Publishing, and all rights to my 9 books listed with them have reverted back to me. DiskUs has always dealt with me in an honest and fair fashion; however, exposure is very limited since books are only available via their site. Under new management, this may change in the future, but at this time, I prefer to find another home for my work. I am in the process of reworking several of my novels and will be seeking a new publisher for all of them, so stay tuned for updates!

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

The prompt this week was to write a horror story that included
the following: Writer, 50,000, month, goal, and winner. This isn’t a horror
story in the supernatural sense, but some people can create a horrific
situation without any help from the other side. Please enjoy.

Writer’s Block

I did it. Yes, I did it. I finished the novel on time, and it is
a great success. Come to think of it, this one might be my most successful
novel ever. It frightens me to look back and remember how close I came to
letting myself down. All my life, I had made certain to always set a goal and
then devote all my time and effort to accomplishing it. When I hit a roadblock,
I simply plowed through it, until an event occurred that turned my roadblock
into a cement wall. When my agent called and said I needed to drop whatever I
was doing because we needed to talk, that set in motion a series of events that
completely turned my life around. I remember his call as if it happened
yesterday.

***

“Jack, I’m going to be completely honest with you. You know that
I don’t only think of you as a client, I have also always thought of you as a
friend. My intent is not to hurt you, but I have to be blunt. It’s the only way
I believe I can help you, and believe me, Jack, you need my help.”

“Richie, don’t be so dramatic. You’ve always been straight with
me. We’ve known each other for most of our lives. You should know by now that
you don’t’ have to tip-toe around me. What’s so urgent that you had to call me so
early in the morning, and on a Saturday? Since when do you work on Saturdays?”

“Okay, Jack, here it is. You’re currently under contract with
one of the biggest publishers in the country, and you are obligated to produce
one more novel before your contract comes up for re-negotiation and hopefully,
renewal.”

“I’m aware of that, Richie, and I’ve been working non-stop.
You’ve been getting the drafts I’ve been sending over, haven’t you? What’s the
problem?”

“The problem is I have
been getting the drafts you’ve been sending over.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Jack, I’m sorry, but they’re awful. Each chapter is worse than
the one before. It isn’t that they’re just rough, they’re terrible. But, that’s
not the biggest issue right now. The thing is, you only have a few months left
before your deadline. While you don’t have to turn in a print-ready copy, you
do have to turn in a complete first draft for review. You’ve been working on
this one for a little over a year and all you’ve sent me is around 50,000 words.
Have you been holding onto the rest or is that all you’ve got written so far?”

“Wow. Awful, huh? Are you sure you’re really an agent? Have you
never heard of an editor?”

“Jack, there isn’t an editor on this planet that could fix the
crap you’ve been sending me. I am so sorry to have to say these things to you,
but it is all crap. A miracle couldn’t fix what you’ve done so far. What is
going on with you? This isn’t the kind of stuff you produce. You are a hell of
a writer, my friend. Your work makes people angry, it makes them laugh, it
makes them cry, but your latest? Frankly, I can’t make it to the end of any of
the chapters without nodding off. It’s all flat. There’s no emotion, there’s no
action, there’s no…uh…there’s nothing. There’s nothing at all.”

“Maybe I’m just burned out, Richie. Maybe I just can’t cut it
anymore.”

“Nonsense. In the past, you’ve cranked out first drafts in a
little over a month and while it took time to get them ready for publication,
there was something great there to work with, and from. No one expects you to
keep up a pace like that, but like I said, you’ve been working on this one for
over a year and you’ve really got basically nothing to show for it.”

“What am I going to do, Richie? I stare at my keyboard and feel
nothing. Usually I can’t type fast enough, but for the past few months, I just
hit the keys and I don’t even care if it makes any sense. Ever since Linda…”

“I know how hard it has been on you, Jack. I also know how easy
it is for me to tell you to forget her, and remind you that she was nothing but
a poor excuse for a human being. You loved her, married her, and all she did
was take you for whatever she could get from you, and that wasn’t even the
worst thing. Instead of simply walking out on you, she made sure you knew she
was running off with another man. I get it, okay? I do, and I know it takes
time to move past something like that, and I don’t mean to sound cold, but it’s
time to pick yourself up and start living again. Don’t let the past haunt you –
put an end to it.

“I think I have a solution. You’re too close to this project and
you’ve reached a point where you’re just going through the motions. I want you
to take some time off, a month, where you don’t think about writing at all. I
have a cabin at Black Bear Lake, and I want you to stay there. It’s fairly
close to where you live, and secluded enough so no one will disturb you. I’ve
arranged for the caretaker to stock it with food and other supplies you may
need. You can take my boat out on the lake, fish, stare at the walls, whatever.
At the end of the month, I want you to go back home, start fresh, and draft me
a story that I can be proud to send off to your editor. What do you think?”

“I didn’t know you had a place out my way. Why didn’t you tell
me about it? I could have taken some time off and joined you for a day or two.
I like to fish too, you know.”

“Uh, I don’t get down there very often, and when I do, I just
want to shut myself off from the world.”

“I sure get that, Richie. That’s exactly what I need. Hey, can
you get away for a few days this time and join me? It’s hard for me to be alone
since Linda…”

“Jack, enough looking back. I can’t get away right now. I’m in
the middle of a couple of big deals, so you go and use this time to get
yourself together. I’ll overnight you the keys. Call me when you get back.”

“Will do. Thanks, Richie. For everything.”

“No problem, Jack. You’ll work this out because you’re a winner.
I truly hope this helps you.”

***

It certainly did help. Being at Richie’s cabin cleared my head
right up. If I hadn’t gone, I never would have found all those pictures of him
and my wife. Linda’s always been that way. No matter where she stays, or for
how long, she always has to make the place her own. She sure made that cabin
home. There were photos of the two of them in drawers, along with some of her
drawers, if you get my drift. I used to pay the credit card bills for purchases
of lingerie, sex toys, and massage oils. Now I know why all I ever saw of those
things were the bills for them.

I wished I had a camera to capture Richie’s and Linda’s expressions
when I showed up at his penthouse in New York. I let them finish their
cocktails before I gutted them both. Again, those looks of surprise with each
thrust of the knife were priceless, and I’ll remember them until the day I die.
After I tucked them both in the king size bed, I booted up Richie’s computer
and wrote the draft of a true crime novel that I was later told would most
likely be a best seller. It took me less than a month to complete it because my
inspirations were close at hand. I had planned to leave to return home the day after
I overnighted the manuscript to my editor, but apparently, some of Richie’s
neighbors had reported the smell. When the police arrived to investigate, I was
in the middle of making a latte, so I didn’t answer the door quickly enough for
their liking. They had the concierge unlock the door, took a look around, and
arrested me on the spot.

***

Richie was so right. I had allowed the past to haunt me, so I
put an end to it. Permanently. My attorney told me this morning that my book
has been number one on the New York Times Bestseller List for 16 weeks
straight. Being on Death Row, I can’t collect the profits, but that’s okay. I
set a goal and achieved it. Richie was right about something else too. I am a winner.

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

The prompt this week was to write a paranormal story, using the painting below as inspiration.

My Sin

“My God, Randolph, what is happening here? There will be no more
telling me I am under stress and I am imagining things. I heard it speak. I saw
its lips move, and I saw it speak to you. What is this abomination?”

“Lilleth, please calm down. There is nothing to fear.”

“Nothing to fear? My husband is conversing with a painting of his
first wife. No, not conversing. My husband is arguing with a…a…a cursed thing.
I know you have lied to me about her, and it is time now to tell me the truth.
I need to know the truth. When we married, you brought the image of your first
wife into my home. You told me you were burdened with guilt over her untimely death
because you believed you were responsible for her demise. I permitted this
painting of her to be hung in our study on the condition that it remain covered
with a black cloth, and you were in full agreement with the arrangement.

“I have suspected for some time that there was something evil
residing here, and today, I find that my suspicions were correct. Your wife did
not die a gruesome death as you had confessed to me. You arranged for one who
practices the black arts to imprison her soul within this canvas for all
eternity, and you carry it with you as one would a trophy. What I do not
understand is why you would do such a terrible thing. I also will never
understand why you would then marry me. Is the identical fate in store for me?”

“No, my dearest. It was not as you have said. The time has come
to be completely honest with you. Please understand why I have hidden the truth
from you until now. It was not to deceive you in any way, but to spare you the
torment. The most important reason was because
I was afraid you would no longer love me. I could not bear to spend the rest of
my life knowing you were filled with hatred for me. I could not let you find
out that I had…”

“Tell me the truth, my husband. Now.”

“Yes, tell her. Tell the fool why we shall remain together
forever. Tell her why you will never be able to completely give yourself to
anyone. Tell her why true happiness will never be yours.”

“Silence, you vile thing. He is my husband now. If you continue
to berate and humiliate, I shall toss you into the fire so that you may suffer
damnation in this world and in the next.”

“No, Lilleth. Wait. Let me explain.”

I had never wanted my new wife to learn of the horrors I have
seen and been responsible for, but I can no longer control Rosalind. She has
become quite mad over the years, but she is not the one to blame for her
misery. The agony and despair she endures is all because of me. My beloved, my
Lilleth, will she leave me once she learns about the monster to whom she gave
her love? I can only pray she is able to find it in her heart to forgive me.

“Lilleth, when Rosalind and I were first married, we took a
holiday. We left civilization behind, as was her wish, and the two of us,
without guide or protector, trekked through the jungle of a Pacific Ocean
island. We had with us a map that had been prepared for us by the agent who
arranged our trip, but we strayed, and found ourselves in the village of some
locals. They were not pleased that we had interrupted their ceremony. They
motioned for us to leave the area, and as I am not accustomed to being treated
in such a derisive manner, I became quite irate. I permitted my anger to
overrule my common sense, and I spoke to their leader quite harshly. I am most ashamed
to admit also that I ridiculed their rites and attire. I regretted my actions
immediately when I saw how frightened Rosalind became of the possible
consequences of my behavior.

“I was getting ready to take her hand and lead us back to our
camp when the leader approached us. He reached into a pouch, and when he removed
his hand, it will filled with a dark scentless powder that he proceeded to
sprinkle in Rosalind’s hair. All the while, he was speaking words I could not
understand. I ordered him to move away from my bride or I would be forced to
draw my pistol. He completed his chant and stepped away from her. Then, surprisingly,
he spoke to me in perfect English, with just a trace of an accent I did not
recognize.

“’Not only have you desecrated our holy ground, you expressed
contempt for me, my people, and our sacred ritual,’ he said. ‘The image of your
bride is what awaits you – that, and nothing more. Any who attempt to destroy it will bond with her in pain and anguish. Now go. The High Priest is done with
both of you.’ I understood none of his alleged curse, and we returned unharmed
to our camp. Our ship came for us two days later, and we arrived at home late
at night and retired. All was well, or so it seemed at the time.

“In the morning, when I awakened, I could not find Rosalind. I
walked about the house calling her name, and I heard her answer me from the
study. I hurried to her since she sounded in distress. On entering the room, I
could hear her speaking, but could not see her. She called out to me to look to
the portrait of her that hung above the fireplace. Her lips were moving and
tears flowed from her eyes. It was at that moment I realized what the High
Priest had done. Somehow, he put Rosalind’s soul into the painting. Her earthly
remains are unaccounted for to this day.”

“There is nothing you can do about it either.” Rosalind was
laughing. “Wherever you go, wherever you live, I will be with you both. Forever!”

“No. Not forever. Not another moment.” Lilleth pulled the
portrait down and started to push it into the fireplace.

“No, Lilleth,” I screamed. “You cannot. Remember the second part
of the curse.”

I lunged toward Lilleth to stop her, but I was too late. As soon
as the painting landed on the fire, blood-red flames shot out and up toward the
ceiling. I watched in horror as Lilleth was surrounded by a bright light that
transformed itself into the form of Rosalind. Lilleth was trying to push her
away, but Rosalind’s form consumed her, and Lilleth began to writhe in pain.

“I cannot…,” she gasped. “The pain…I…God forgive…” She ran by me
and before I could get hold of her, she jumped from the balcony.

I was too late to save her. Again. Too late. I looked down and
saw her broken body on the rugged shore; the waves covering her and pulling
away, to cruelly remind me how the world goes on even when ours seems to have
ended. The light that had once been Rosalind has gone out. My Lilleth’s light
has also gone dark. I climb over the railing. I will join them now in death
since it was my sin that delivered them both to the jagged rocks below. God,
please forgive me…

About Me

I am a writer, who has had two crime fiction novels, a six-part children's fantasy series. and a poetry collection published by DiskUsPublishing, stories published in various anthologies, as well as flash pieces on various ezines. My current projects include two crime fiction novels.

obit.: Pure Slush, Vol. 6

gorge: Pure Slush, Vol. 4

Notausgang: Emergency Exit, Pure Slush, Vol. 2

The Lost Children Charity Anthology

Inside (currently out of print; seeking new publisher)

An up close and personal look at that crazy carnival ride we call life -- with all its sunlight and shadows. A Poetry Collection

My Crime Thriller (currently out of print; seeking new publisher)

A timid and naive man, dominated personally and professionally by his wife and father-in-law, who is desperate for a friend and confidante of his own, unwittingly allows himself to be drawn into a deadly game of chance by a cunning predator

My Crime Thriller (currently out of print; seeking new publisher)

It's always nice to have a new neighbor settle in - one who is hard-working and proficient at his craft. That is, unless he's a serial killer...

The Favor (Noir Short)

Finders Keepers (Noir Short)

Byline (Crime Fiction Short)

A Gentleman Caller (Crime Short)

My Goodreads

Florida. The sunshine state. A land of oranges, theme parks, and hundreds of miles of beaches. In this land of endless summers and crystal blue water, people are dying in ways the likes of which the local police have never seen. Each dea...

This is a book that anyone and everyone who enjoys a wild ride must read. The characters are beyond unique, the primary setting is beyond imagination and the story? Whoa! This story will snatch you up right from the start and then tw...

This was the first book by this author that I've read, but I intend to look for others. I signed up for his newsletter so I can be notified of new releases.
This story was very dark and super creepy. The characters were presented so c...

Hardly Thrillers
If you are looking for a collection of thrillers, I would recommend looking elsewhere. There are a couple of stories that are very good and are quite disturbing, which I feel thrillers should be. But the majority of t...